


desert fruit

by luckee



Series: desert fruit [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Anakin Skywalker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Feral Anakin Skywalker, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Underage Sex, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Scent Marking, Tatooine (Star Wars), Top Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/pseuds/luckee
Summary: Jedi Master Obi-Wan gets caught in a sandstorm and finds shelter from a young hermit.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: desert fruit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823194
Comments: 54
Kudos: 739





	desert fruit

**Author's Note:**

> How Obi-Wan might stumble across a never-discovered Anakin who’s lived alone in the desert for a very long time. With some ABO flavor.

“There’s a storm coming. Might want to stay in town until it passes.”

Obi-Wan looked up at the clear blue sky. “How can you be sure?”

“Wind’s picked up.”

“Hardly seems strong enough to cause a storm.”

“Live here long enough and you start to know when it’s going to get bad.”

She finished outfitting his speeder with the twin fuel tanks for his ship and he gave her the appropriate credits in exchange. She sent him off with another warning about the approaching storm and he gave her a polite nod in thanks.

He was about halfway back to his ship when he finally had to admit he’d lost all visibility.

A dusty orange haze had enveloped the sky in a matter of minutes. The storm surged forth as a never-ending cloud of sand rolling in from the east, picking up momentum from the dunes along the way. All he could do was brace himself against the wind, burning up the speeder’s fuel to fight the violent gusts as they seemed to effortlessly steer him off course. The sand was blinding. It was only during split-second reprieves of the wind shifting that he could even attempt to open his eyes.

Before long the wind was the only thing actually driving his speeder. He knew he was headed in a direction and that’s where his knowledge started and ended. Perhaps belatedly, he accepted he wasn’t going to make it back to his ship any time soon and his focus shifted to finding any possible form of protection from the storm.

He cracked open his eyes and could just make out a dwelling made of white synstone, not too far in the distance, directly under a tall crest of rocky dunes. Apparently the Force was feeling merciful. But before he could even attempt to steer toward shelter, a powerful gale finally knocked him off the speeder. He quickly called upon the Force but the vehicle went spiraling over top of him out of his control, the fuel tanks and other supplies flying off. Something heavy and sharp tore across his back and he gasped at the fresh shock of pain. He tumbled for a while before landing face down in the sand, the wind so strong it was practically shoving him into the ground.

Force, why did _anyone_ live on a planet like this? 

He was cursing Windu under his breath for assigning him to the Hutt negotiations in the first place when he sensed a strong Force signature.

Before he could even process what that meant he was being dragged through the sand.

“Excuse me!” His voice was barely audible over the wind even to his own ears. He scrambled to stand, a difficult task under the brutal winds. “Who are you?”

The being was completely covered up by clothes, face concealed by dark goggles and a headscarf. They said nothing, just continued forcefully tugging him by the hand.

Obi-Wan squinted to see through the dust. He was being led to the synstone dwelling. Well, he figured, it had already been his intention to seek it out for shelter. Even if this apparent resident turned out to be trouble, the prospect of even momentarily escaping the elements was too good to refuse.

Immediately he knew he’d entered the home of an alpha. Obi-Wan was used to the sanitized, muted scents of the Jedi and the clones. Their suppressants made it nearly impossible to know one’s designation by scent alone. But Obi-Wan knew this was an alpha, their scent wild and unbridled by suppressants, something smoky with perhaps a hint of fuel oil. It permeated the enclosed space—this alpha lived here and they lived here alone.

And based on how alluring their scent was, even to his suppressed senses, this alpha was very compatible with him.

This alpha also seemed very pissed off that they’d had to rescue him from the sandstorm. The door was slammed shut behind him as soon as he entered, but a slew of sand had managed to sneak in anyway. As soon as the door closed the howling wind dulled to a low drone and the storm was restricted to sand swirling past the windows. 

The alpha unwrapped the scarf from around their head and tore off their goggles to reveal a man glowering at him. 

Obi-Wan studied the stranger’s face at the same time his hand reached for the lightsaber on his belt. The man was a fair bit younger than him, still something rather youthful about his face. Probably around twenty-five in Standard years if Obi-Wan had to wager a guess. His skin was bronzed by the sun, his hair bleached by it. As he held that fierce stare he realized he wasn’t just seeing anger in those eyes—he was seeing fear. There was something defensive and almost nervous about the alpha’s stance.

Then the alpha sniffed the air and seemed to detect something that made him march forward. Obi-Wan was a second away from igniting his lightsaber when the alpha propped a hand up on the door behind him and leaned into his body, snuffling intently all along the scent glands on either side of his neck, nose brushing along his skin. He thought he might’ve felt a tongue flick out. The alpha’s scent was even more frustratingly enticing up close and Obi-Wan couldn’t resist inhaling a whiff of it. For Force’s sake, what was he doing? He hadn’t let his senses guide him like this in years.

“Your scent,” the alpha muttered, still very much up in Obi-Wan’s personal space. He sounded perplexed. “It’s wrong. ...Buried.”

What a way to start a conversation. Obi-Wan huffed, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he side-stepped away from him. “Yes, well, that’s what suppressants do.”

The alpha looked at him curiously, cocking his head.

“Suppressants,” Obi-Wan repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Do humans not use suppressants on Tatooine?” 

A shrug that he translated to mean _I don’t know._ Then the alpha sniffed the air again and his eyes widened. “Are you hurt?”

“Just a scratch,” Obi-Wan assured him quickly. He wanted to move the conversation forward, away from his apparently troubling scent. “I’d like to say thank you for bringing me in from the sandstorm.”

The young alpha gave a stilted nod, still looking at him rather oddly, before walking away.

Obi-Wan blinked after him. He watched him sit down at his workbench and get right back to work on whatever he’d left behind to run out into the storm. It looked like speeder parts, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t know.

“I’m sorry, could I get your name?”

For a while he thought his unenthusiastic host was going to ignore him, but eventually he got a response. “Anakin.”

Obi-Wan affected his most cordial voice. “It’s nice to meet you, Anakin. My name is Obi-Wan. Can I assume you’ll let me wait out the storm here? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Anakin didn’t look up from his parts. “You can stay.”

His guard was still up, of course, but at least the alpha was giving him space and seemed to have moved on from being wary of him. In fact, he seemed rather content to ignore his existence altogether. Obi-Wan preferred it that way. The situation was already unpleasant enough, being stuck in the middle of nowhere with somewhere to be, at the mercy of a stranger’s kindness. Obi-Wan knew he’d had no trouble fighting Anakin off if he needed to, but the circumstances still put him a bit on edge.

Left standing by himself at the entrance of the stranger's house, Obi-Wan realized he was covered head-to-toe in sand. 

“Might I be able to use a washtub, or a sonic if you have one? Something to clean the dirt off.”

Anakin tilted his chin toward a door at the far side of the modest space. As Obi-Wan walked across the room, Anakin suddenly got up as well. He dug through a wooden chest until he found what he was looking for: a set of tunic and pants, similar to Anakin’s own, made of a thin fabric that was well-suited for the desert heat.

Anakin held the clothing out to him, looking at him expectantly.

Obi-Wan took the offered pile and brought it into the refresher with him. He wasn’t quite sure why Anakin had given him his clothes, but given the way his own cloak and tunic were ripped across the back and generally filthy, he was appreciative for something that was at least clean. 

Perhaps his scent, however muted, was offensive to him. Obi-Wan wasn’t one for putting up with an alpha’s territorial behavior but he was an uninvited guest in this alpha’s home and this alpha seemed rather unaccustomed to guests—and social interaction in general. Obi-Wan could only guess at how long he’d spent as a hermit, living this far out from Mos Espa or any of the moisture farming settlements. He could give in to one of the alpha’s odd requests if it put him at ease.

The sonic was an archaic contraption, barely big enough to stand in. The worst of the sonics in the Republic fleet were more luxurious than this, but it got the job done. The concentrated rush of air brought fresh pain to the wound on his back and he knew he’d need to find a bacta patch as soon as he got back to his ship to prevent infection. 

He also found a small tap sticking out of the wall. He used a conservative amount to wet a rag and rinse himself of the residue that the sonic air hadn’t quite removed.

By the time he came back into the main room the storm seemed to have marginally abated. Murky orange light still poured in through the windows and he could still faintly hear the winds whistling beyond the insulated walls.

Anakin was hunched over his stool at the workbench, still tinkering away at something. Obi-Wan quietly watched him work, fascinated by this man he’d stumbled across. Anakin had given no indication that he was Force sensitive, but Obi-Wan knew he was with absolute certainty. He was a brightly burning light in the Force. How had the Order never found him? What was he doing in the middle of a desert wasteland?

Finally Anakin looked up. His gaze flitted up and down, taking in the appearance of his own clothes, how they fit slightly loose and hung from his shoulders. He seemed pleased by what he saw, enough to abandon his work and come closer to inspect.

Obi-Wan reluctantly allowed Anakin to scent him again, allowed the alpha to crowd into him and press his nose into his neck, breathing in deeply. A soft rumble started up in his chest. The boy seemed harmless at this point, perhaps still curious about his lack of scent, and it didn’t do any harm to indulge him. 

This close, though, he realized Anakin was rather filthy himself. Obi-Wan brushed a thumb along his temple, gently sweeping off some of the sand that had crept in under his scarf. “Looks like you could stand to use the sonic as well.”

Anakin shivered a bit under his touch. Obi-Wan wondered about the last time the young alpha had been touched like that. He seemed embarrassed to be caught reacting in such a way because he frowned and stalked off in the direction of the refresher.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even had time to move before Anakin spun back around. “Don’t go.”

“I really couldn’t leave if I wanted to,” Obi-Wan pointed out lightly.

Anakin continued staring at him.

“I won’t leave,” Obi-Wan promised.

That seemed enough to satisfy him. He disappeared into the refresher.

Obi-Wan settled onto the single chair at the table Anakin used for eating—at least that was what he assumed it was for. The table was fairly low to the ground and made of synstone, sitting adjacent to the designated kitchen space.

He had lost his holocom with the speeder but at least the comlink on his wrist still seemed to be working. He dialed in.

“Master Kenobi,” Aayla greeted him. Static crackled over the line. “Finished negotiations at the palace?”

“Yes, although it may be another day or so before I can meet up with you.” 

“What? Obi-Wan, we need you here as soon as possible.”

“And I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“I’m not in trouble.” He sighed. “A sandstorm hit and I can’t reach my ship until it passes. I’ll let you know when I’ve set course for Aluth.”

“Alright. I’ll let the troopers know.”

“Thank you. Stay safe, Master Secura.”

“Same to you.”

Anakin had elected not to put his tunic back on after the sonic, as became apparent when he emerged from the refresher.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but look at the bared skin on display. While Anakin was bulkier than one might expect for someone living humbly in the desert, his skin looked almost uncomfortably stretched over the muscles beneath. The lean muscles were almost too defined in the long lines of his arms, and the ridges of his abdomen spoke more of too little food than of strength. 

Still, he was quite beautiful. Again he wondered what this man was doing alone in the middle of the desert.

Obi-Wan’s stomach chose that moment to make its hunger known. 

The sound sent Anakin into motion. He went straight to the kitchen where he started opening up cupboards and pulling things out. 

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan hurried to say. He watched as Anakin started mixing something up in a bowl. “You really don’t need to feed me. I’ll be back on my ship in a few hours.”

Anakin didn’t listen, continuing to prepare whatever he was making. He seemed to hesitate, thinking something over, and then he opened the tiny conservator and pulled out a carton of what looked like… fruit, the size of large berries.

The fruit was placed in front of him alongside a bowl of grainmeal.

“I’m really quite alright,” Obi-Wan insisted, smiling apologetically. “I’m sure fresh fruit like this isn’t easy to come by out here.”

Anakin dragged over the stool from his workbench and sat across from him at the table. 

He proceeded to stare at him.

“Eat,” he instructed.

He gave in, quickly realizing the alpha wasn't going to. “Could I… get a spoon?”

Anakin seemed embarrassed but he handed him a spoon from the cupboard.

Obi-Wan felt a bit uneasy with Anakin’s full attention on him, but he ate as requested, spooning up the grainmeal mush. Really, he was quite famished—now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure when he had last eaten. The past week he’d been ceaselessly jumping from one planet to another trying to prevent a Separatist takeover of trade routes in the Outer Rim and it had barely afforded him any time to sleep.

When he finished the grainmeal Anakin pushed the carton closer to him.

The fruit had shiny pinkish orange skin and when he bit down he found it soft-fleshed and sweet with a few seeds in the middle. 

Anakin seemed to be waiting for something.

“It’s very good,” Obi-Wan said. “Very sweet. Thank you.”

Happy alpha scent filtered into the room. Obi-Wan studied Anakin carefully while he finished eating the fruit, taking in the way Anakin seemed wholly fixated on every bite he took.

“Why were you out in a storm?” 

The abruptness of Anakin’s question startled him.

“I was at the palace to negotiate terms for an alliance with the Republic. I had to travel into Mos Espa to refuel and got caught in the storm on my way back.”

Anakin did not seem the least bit impressed by his explanation. “The Hutts don’t negotiate with the Republic.”

“Well, the war has vastly changed what crime lords are willing to do to stay in business.”

“War?”

“Yes, the war.”

Anakin still didn’t seem to understand.

His mouth gaped in disbelief. “Do you not know about the Galactic War that’s been waging for over five years? The Separatist movement that is tearing the Republic apart?”

Anakin shrugged. “Doesn’t really reach out here.” 

Obi-Wan regarded him thoughtfully. No, he supposed the war wouldn’t very much affect a desert hermit in the Outer Rim.

“What is it that you do out here, exactly?”

“Repair things, mostly,” Anakin said. “Build things. Sell them in town.”

Obi-Wan considered that. “Why not live closer to town then?”

Another shrug. 

Obi-Wan sighed. He wasn’t likely to get much further with this line of questioning. “I suppose my speeder will be too far to retrieve by the time the storm has calmed down.”

Anakin gave him a look that said _you think?_

“If I could borrow your vehicle I could run into town and buy a new one. I promise I’d have yours back within a couple hours.”

Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan was preparing himself to negotiate when Anakin clarified. “I’ll get you to your ship. When it’s safe.”

“Oh. Well, that would be much appreciated. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan stood up from the table and involuntarily hissed in pain when the movement reopened the clotting wound on his shoulder. Immediately Anakin rushed him, scenting the air with his hands all over him, searching for the source of pain. 

“It’s just a cut on my back.” Obi-Wan tried to wave him off, but he could feel Anakin’s tunic sticking to the freshly opened wound and the sting of it made him grimace.

Anakin herded him to the bed. He gave in under Anakin’s imploring stare, sitting down with his back to the alpha. Anakin tugged at his tunic and Obi-Wan let it come apart, falling down his shoulders. He winced as the fabric came unstuck from the wound. 

Anakin gave a low growl.

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” Obi-Wan said. “Once I can apply bacta it will heal just fine.”

Anakin guided him, gently but insistently, to lay down on his belly, and Obi-Wan acquiesced, curious what the alpha was trying to do. Maybe he wanted to look at it closer to see if he had any salves to treat it. A weight pressed into his lower back; Anakin was straddling him and leaning in close, running fingers along the edges of the wound. 

He flinched, not expecting the touch, and was about to tell Anakin not to poke it when he felt a warm, wet pressure drag up the length of the cut.

“What—” He craned his neck and realized Anakin was right there, bent down over him. The alpha glanced at him briefly before he bowed his head and returned to licking his back.

“Anakin. What are you doing?” 

He received only a low hum in response. Anakin didn’t let up from his ministrations, laving his tongue all along the raw seam of the wound. 

Obi-Wan needed to stop him. He couldn’t imagine this was sanitary, but it did feel… somewhat nice. Soothing. Anakin was slow and careful, his tongue acting like a balm on the irritated skin. Inexplicably he found himself relaxing further into the bed, allowing this semi-feral alpha to do as he pleased.

Then that tongue traveled higher up to his neck, lapping at the sensitive skin there. The rumbling grew louder in volume. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said in warning.

Anakin’s nose buried into the crook of his neck, seeking out his scent gland. He inhaled deeply and sighed.

“I can smell you,” the alpha rumbled into his skin. “Omega.”

Obi-Wan stilled. 

“I knew it,” Anakin purred happily, nuzzling under his jaw, “I knew you were an omega. Smelled so good. Perfect.”

Anakin continued pressing into him and inhaling his scent, alternately licking and mouthing at his neck, while Obi-Wan contemplated what he should do. Reasonably, he didn’t need to be rolling around in bed with a stranger in the middle of an Outer Rim crisis. On the other hand...

A growl ripped from Anakin’s throat and he bucked his hips suddenly, the very evident weight of his cock sliding along the cleft of Obi-Wan’s ass through their clothes. It was swiftly followed by a confused whine and more rutting.

Obi-Wan knew he needed to stop this immediately if he didn’t want it to turn into sex. He needed to force some distance between them before this unsuppressed alpha got too riled up and possessive, but he found it difficult with the heady scent of Anakin’s arousal flooding his senses.

Anakin was drooling on him, a bit, his thrusts increasingly sharp and uncoordinated, and his breath was growing ragged. His little growls were frustrated, like he was seeking something out and couldn’t find it.

“Are you going into rut?” Obi-Wan said suddenly. He squeezed Anakin’s arm tightly to draw his attention and twisted around enough to look at him.

“I’ve never— I’ve never…” Anakin’s eyes went wide at the question. His hips snapped forward again, a strange half-aborted movement.

“You’ve never had a rut?”

“No, not like— this."

What kind of malnourishment had this young alpha experienced for his body to never go into rut? To go into rut from of the scent of a random suppressed omega?

“Please.” Anakin didn’t even seem to know what he was asking for, but his cock kept sliding along his ass, rocking into him. He bent down and started licking incessantly over his scent glands again. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan made a decision, perhaps rashly, but he had a very attractive alpha going into his first rut on top of him and he didn’t have anywhere else he needed to be, anywhere else he _could_ be, and if nothing else he might be able to slow the alpha’s rut enough to give them time to think about this.

“Take off your pants.”

Anakin took a second to process his command but once he did he hurried to do so. Obi-Wan unwrapped his tunic from around his waist and took his own pants off, knowing skin to skin contact would be better for Anakin. He resettled on the bed just in time for Anakin to start rutting against him again.

“It hurts. I need…”

“I know, dear. Here,” he shifted, parting his thighs ever so slightly. “Push between my legs.”

Anakin’s cock was thick and hot and slightly wet when it slid in between his thighs. He tilted his hips up and squeezed his thighs together, creating a tight space for Anakin to push into. The alpha quickly got with the program, rutting between his legs with wild abandon. His cock was leaking enough with his youthful excitement to ease the way, making each drag back and forth between his thighs rather pleasurable. Little satisfied grunts emanated from the alpha’s chest and Obi-Wan knew it wouldn’t be long before he was spilling.

To his shock he felt his own body responding to the scent of a virile alpha in rut. He could feel it in his flushed cheeks, the cool feeling of slick meeting the air and trickling down his overheated skin. He didn’t understand it—his suppressants were potent and an alpha’s pheromones, even in rut, had never affected him enough to produce slick. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin was panting as his hips sped up, “I think… I think I’m going to… to knot.”

And Obi-Wan could feel it, the slight swelling at the base, when Anakin rutted between his legs as deep as he could go. “If you pull out and finish in your hand without squeezing, the knot should go down.” 

Anakin thrust in a few more times before his weight disappeared from Obi-Wan’s back. A soft groan was the only warning he had before hot fluid shot onto his lower back. 

Anakin was quick to rub his seed into Obi-Wan’s skin, leaving most of his back feeling unpleasantly sticky. Force, he’d really found the most scent-driven alpha in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan was about to roll over to check on Anakin when his hips were roughly grabbed and he was drawn up to his knees, startling a gasp out of him. Hands palmed the flesh of his ass, spreading him open, and then Anakin’s tongue was pressing into him hot and wet, licking up all of the slick that had dribbled out. The alpha buried his face in and hummed his satisfaction, the vibration of it shooting pleasure straight to Obi-Wan’s quickly swelling cock.

After the initial shock had worn off he found he was enjoying Anakin’s tongue immensely.

“Yes, that’s good, Anakin,” he encouraged around a breathy moan as Anakin lapped up more of his slick, “Press in. Use your tongue.”

There was something worshipful about the way that Anakin laved attention on his hole, dutifully following instruction and wiggling his tongue past the tight rim, slowly opening him up. His own slick eased the way but Anakin was determined to force him open even more, tongue twisting around inside him and stretching his walls, pulling out every few seconds to clean up the new pool of slick that had gathered.

“So sweet,” Anakin slurred into his skin, and something about the low timbre made his back arch even more, chest going flat to the bed. Presenting, he realized. Pressing further back into his alpha’s mouth and his thorough servicing of his aching core. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been attended to like this, but it felt like being taken apart.

Anakin’s vigorous lapping and sucking was causing more slick to gush out of him than he thought possible. He was astounded by the sheer abundance of it. On suppressants as he was, producing any slick at all was a rare occasion, and he’d never been anywhere close to dripping like this.

Suddenly the thought struck him that he might be going into heat.

Anakin’s tongue was relentless, forcing in and out of him, working deftly to coax the muscles to relax and allow him deeper access. His fingers were digging tightly into his flesh, pulling his hips back in time with his tongue pushing in. 

Pleasure was building deep in his belly, his cock throbbing with every growl reverberated against his skin, and then two fingers were forcing their way in alongside Anakin’s tongue, pushing into him far deeper than his tongue could reach and finding that tight bundle of nerves.

His cock spilled onto the bed so fast that his brain took seconds to catch up and register that he had come.

Anakin pulled his fingers out slowly and Obi-Wan knew he was licking at them without even looking. He was still a bit breathless when Anakin’s tongue returned to his ass.

“Anakin, stop. Let me up.”

Anakin backed off immediately.

Obi-Wan flipped over onto his back at a languid pace. Anakin was sitting back on his knees, giving him the most pitiful look imaginable. Obi-Wan propped himself up on the pillows in a way that didn't irritate his wound and took his time roving his gaze over Anakin’s body, finally getting to admire his bed partner. Anakin looked beautifully wild with his pupils blown wide, his heavy cock flushed dark and curving up against his taut belly. Force, he couldn’t wait for that cock to plug him full.

Obi-Wan splayed his legs a little wider, invitingly, relishing in Anakin’s full attention instantly returning to that space between his legs. “Come here, darling.”

Anakin scrambled up the length of his body to kiss him fervently, licking into his mouth. The poor thing was nearly vibrating out of his skin, relief radiating off him in waves. 

He kissed back easily, opening himself up to this strange, sweet alpha.

Anakin was whining into his mouth, little frustrated noises that tugged at his heart.

Obi-Wan carded a hand through that thick mess of curls and tugged his head back gently. “Use your words, dear.”

Another whine. “I want… I want to be in you. Want to knot you.”

He kissed Anakin slowly, quieting him. When he pulled back he met Anakin’s eyes and gave him a playful grin. “That works out well for us then, because I want you to knot me.”

Anakin was already hard and ready to go as Obi-Wan helped him get into position, bringing his own legs up around the alpha’s waist to get a better angle. Just before Anakin was about to push in, he stopped abruptly.

“Are you going to stay?”

“What?” His hole clenched around nothing, having expected a cock to fill it.

Anakin sounded anxious. “Are you going to stay?” 

Obi-Wan wracked his brain. Did he mean until the storm passed?

“Yes, I’ll stay,” he agreed. “Now get _in_ me.”

Happy alpha scent filled his senses right before Anakin swiftly sheathed himself inside of him. Obi-Wan’s body stretched around him with minimal discomfort, his hole already loosened by his own slick and Anakin’s diligent tongue. Anakin began pounding into him in earnest, guided by his instincts. His movements were still a bit uncoordinated and inexperienced but Obi-Wan welcomed every thrust, meeting Anakin's hips with his own. He let his eyes flutter closed and melted into the feeling of being filled so completely, again and again, his lungs taking in their combined scents of heat and arousal with every gasp of breath punched out of him.

Anakin’s strong hips snapped into him tirelessly, over and over, driving his cock in deep on every thrust. Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t the best angle for his own pleasure but he appreciated being able to open his eyes and see his bed partner’s lovely face. He could see the sweat starting to bead on his skin, could see the lust darkening his eyes and the pleasure parting his lips. What the alpha might struggle to convey in words was written plainly across his face.

His intentions were certainly easy to understand in the way Obi-Wan could feel his knot starting to swell again, catching at his rim every time Anakin pushed in all the way to the base. 

With every deep thrust of that swelling cock Anakin was pulling soft moans from his lips as he hit just the right spot inside him. “You’re doing so well. Filling me up perfectly.” He watched in satisfaction as Anakin preened under the praise.

Anakin chose that moment to haul them both up, hands coming under to cup his ass, keeping them connected as he lifted Obi-Wan off the bed. 

Obi-Wan felt like purring over the delightful new angle that Anakin had found for them, the alpha keeping up his steady pace even while holding Obi-Wan up.

“Strong alpha,” Obi-Wan teased affectionately, brushing fingers through Anakin’s damp hair. His legs stayed wrapped around Anakin’s waist as he met his upward strokes, impaling himself down on that burgeoning knot.

“Obi-Wan, I want to…” Anakin was staring intently at the crook of his neck, zeroing in on a very specific area.

“You can’t bite.”

Anakin continued pumping into him with vigor, knot swelling rapidly, and his gaze didn’t leave his neck.

“Anakin, I’m serious,” although he likely didn’t sound very convincing, voice thick with pleasure, on the brink of orgasm with that knot stretching him so well.

“I need to. Please,” Anakin pleaded, finally looking at him, eyes wide and surprisingly clear.

“Do not bite.”

Anakin was able to ram into him a few more times before his knot swelled too large to pull back out. As he started to spill his seed inside him, Anakin worried his teeth at Obi-Wan’s scent gland, softly growling his frustration. But he did not bite down.

Obi-Wan came with that warm mouth on his neck and that thick knot locked deep inside, stretching him to his limits. Anakin’s hand left his ass to stroke his cock as he spilled, gathering up as much of it as he could. Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back a breathless laugh when Anakin brought his fingers up to his mouth and eagerly licked his spend off of them.

They were both trembling a bit, Anakin still spilling in spurts inside him, but Anakin kept them upright, his knot nestled in place securely without tugging at his rim. 

Still tied together by Anakin’s knot they slowly eased down onto the bed. Obi-Wan tucked Anakin’s head under his chin and Anakin took the opportunity to decorate his collarbone with little nips and licks, apparently not quite finished with claiming his skin.

“Mate, mate, my mate.” Anakin was barely coherent, slurring his words together, drunk on having his knot somewhere warm and tight. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan petted through his curls and hummed soothingly, holding him close and letting his omega scent calm him down.

He didn’t keep track of how many times Anakin knotted him. Heat seemed to have a way of making everything blur together, boiling his memory down to nothing but touch and warmth and pleasure. There was nothing but darkness outside the windows by the time they were finally lying down to rest, still catching their breaths, Anakin knotted inside of him from behind. A warm palm rubbed back and forth over his belly. 

Obi-Wan was feeling sated, being lulled into sleep by the rhythmic movement of Anakin’s hand and the warmth of a body pressed against his back, when Anakin mumbled something into his skin.

“What did you say?” Obi-Wan asked, already half-asleep.

“Pups.” Anakin snuggled closer and rubbed his nose along Obi-Wan’s throat. “Soon you’ll be round with pups.”

The mention of children sent his thoughts spinning.

He could not say with certainty that he wasn’t in some kind of heat. He had been on suppressants since his very first heat and that took place many years ago—he didn’t remember what a true heat felt like. But surely his hormones had been regulated for far too long for his body to be able to conceive right now, even if he had entered a pseudo-heat. Besides, he wasn’t young anymore, certainly not at the peak of his fertility. No, he wouldn’t conceive from this, just as he’d never conceived from sex any time before now.

But with Anakin’s fingers tracing his skin so reverently he couldn’t stop himself from briefly entertaining the idea, of growing heavy with Anakin’s children, how they would feel within him, their tiny, bright Force signatures... 

He pushed the thoughts away. He was on suppressants and would continue to be on suppressants until he could no longer experience heat. His life was sworn to the Order and to the Republic. He had a war to return to tomorrow.

He drifted to sleep with Anakin’s hand still caressing his belly and his soft breaths tickling his hair.

* * *

In the morning Anakin woke him up with a rain of kisses across his face.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan said with amusement, gently pushing the eager alpha off of him.

“Good morning, Obi-Wan.” Anakin sat up and smiled, his whole face lighting up with it. What a far cry from the scowling alpha he’d first met mere hours before.

Obi-Wan sat up as well, willfully ignoring the stirrings of heat in his belly, and looked out the window. Evidently the storm had passed. Mid-morning sunlight beamed in through the glass. “Looks like we’ll be able to head out right away this morning.”

Instantly Obi-Wan could sense the alpha’s alarm. He turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you not… staying?”

“On Tatooine? Of course not.”

Anakin flinched away like he’d been struck. “But you promised to stay. With me.”

“I said— I meant that I would stay the night. I didn’t think you meant...”

Anakin gave him a miserable look. 

Realization landed like a heavy lump in his stomach. 

He really had wanted him to… stay.

“Anakin, I can’t stay here,” he said as gently as he possibly could. “I can’t abandon my duty to the Republic. I need to get back to my ship.”

Anakin refused to look at him for a long while. He was hunched in on himself, shoulders tense, clearly holding back emotion.

Obi-Wan was reaching out a hand to comfort him when Anakin abruptly stood up, threw his clothes on, and stalked out of the house.

He changed back into his discarded clothes slowly, giving Anakin some time alone before joining him outside.

* * *

Anakin transported him back to his ship, as promised.

The alpha’s scent was a bitter taste in his mouth during the entire trip. It was inescapable when he was pressed up against him on the back of the speeder. 

Anakin hadn’t spoken a word, returning to the closed-off stranger that he first was to him. 

Obi-Wan turned back around in the middle of ascending the ramp to his ship. “Thank you, Anakin. For offering me shelter from the storm. I’m sorry I can’t repay you.”

Anakin’s guarded expression briefly gave way to something hopeful. “You could stay.”

Something within him was desperate to part ways with Anakin amicably, without the stench of sadness tainting his departure. He wanted to assure Anakin that some part of him, against all reason, wanted to stay. But he knew he was needed elsewhere and didn’t have time to waste.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing he managed to say before he closed up the ramp, Anakin disappearing from view.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for a sequel~


End file.
